


Stand up, Strike out

by violenteer



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, and acts on it, jason sees dick in everyone but dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 15:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20473010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violenteer/pseuds/violenteer
Summary: It’s been a while. Not so long that Jason’s really awkward, but long enough that each lingering kiss the smiley guy gives him feels fresh in its own way. Jason’s skin tingles wherever he’s touched. He pushes into the sensations eagerly, a dog searching desperately for affection, or a fucking bone.





	Stand up, Strike out

The glittering club lights strobe over the crowd slowly, trying to follow the serene pulse of the music. Bodies are everywhere, flowing into each other as seamlessly as they can. There’s a rhythm in the air that Jason can feel. It carries him outside of his busy, eggs-over-easy head. He doesn’t have to think. He doesn’t have to strategize, or counter, or make sure he's three steps ahead of everyone else.

There are people near him. Jason’s towards the back, but there are people everywhere. Some he’s made eye contact with. Some he’s brushed in passing, launching loaded gazes and permeating hundreds of moments as he goes.

Men reach out to him, aiming their hands to sling low on his hips. Jason avoids most of them good-naturedly. Fluidly. He’s a practiced pit-dweller in more senses than one. But eventually, someone catches his eye for longer than a moment. His attention lingers. It snags on a particular feature. Blue eyes. Dark, curling hair. A confident smile. Jason doesn’t think more of the things that give him pause. They just give him pause, and he pauses.

Eye contact lasts longer than a coincidental glance. Jason moves, the bodies around him helping to support his frame. Jason feels as though he’s in water, being carried by a wave further out to sea.

He meets the man who caught his eye. He’s smaller, but only by a couple inches. Swimmer’s body by the looks and the posture; the guy takes himself as seriously as you need him to. He gets in front of Jason. They grind together, smooth and purposeful but without much focus.

Jason likes it when the guy tilts his head back and meets his eyes. His expression looks mischievous. Jason wants to know what he’s thinking. Wants to know what he feels like underneath the weight of the club.

They make their way to the bar, and then to the bathroom. Jason’s on him before either of them can say a word. The music has dulled to a pulsating roar drumming over their skin. Jason can feel the beat in his chest. His heart thumps painfully quick, nerves and arousal rioting through him.

It’s been a while. Not so long that Jason’s really awkward, but long enough that each lingering kiss the smiley guy gives him feels fresh in its own way. Jason’s skin tingles wherever he’s touched. He pushes into the sensations eagerly, a dog searching desperately for affection, or a fucking bone.

His dick is hard where the stranger cups him. Jason didn’t wear underwear, and his jeans offer a friction that isn’t all together uncomfortable, but… close enough.

“Now?” The stranger looks at Jason earnestly.

Jason bites into the meat of his shoulder and earns a beautiful moan that’s a little too high-pitched to be fake. He smirks as he unclenches his jaw; Jason likes to know his effect is still as powerful as it was once.

“Unless I read this wrong,” Jason starts, his voice rough, broken in some places.

His hand flicks between them. He tilts his head, eyes smiling beneath the shadow of his brow.

Jason’s on his knees in the last stall. The muscles in his thighs strain when the stranger above him starts to rock his head back and forth with the hand curled in Jason’s hair. Jason moves with it. He’s not afraid or ashamed of how it makes him feel. He doesn’t care to limit himself to something that wouldn’t suit him, or that would leave him wanting more.

The guy makes sweet little noises when Jason picks up the slack, wrestles some control back. He uses his hands, carves a path up the guy’s leg with his nails and fondles his balls. Jason would stick a finger up the guy’s ass if they had more time, but the walls are starting to close in, and Jason knows he won’t be able to stick around here much longer.

He swallows the cum that lands in jagged stripes over his mouth, across his cheeks. Jason doesn’t like to leave a mess. He cleans the dick in front of him until it becomes painful judging by the choked noises above.

It makes his heart feel warmer. Jason doesn’t know how to categorize the feeling, other than to accept that it feels fucking good.

He gets up from the floor. Kisses the stranger a little more, just to share the taste of him. To seal the deal.

He kicks their bathroom stall door open and walks out, back toward the mirrors.

The guy he just blew follows, confused.

“What about you?” he asks.

His eyebrows are furrowed deeply in the mirror, and the set of his jaw creates one of the cutest pouts Jason’s seen in a while.

“I’m good.” Jason responds.

His hands are in his hair as he puts himself back to rights.

The music is coming back into focus. Gritty bathroom floor, shuttering fluorescent lights above. The sweat from a hundred bodies hanging in the air, and a deadly amount of cologne and perfume to serve as alibi.

“Really? Because I really wanted to return the favor.”

The guy has puppy-dog eyes on. He’s really pulling out his heavy artillery for Jason. It’s almost endearing. Or it would be if Jason wasn’t starting to feel an old, familiar coldness set into his limbs.

Right wall and left want to kiss. Jason doesn’t want to be caught in the middle. He blinks and shrugs, smiling a little to ease his own anxiety.

“Lot of fish in the sea out there.” Jason answers.

He starts walking. The puppy follows, close enough that it starts to feel itchy beneath Jason’s t-shirt and jeans. He clenches his jaw and, more smoothly than he should be able to with a few drinks in his system, Jason throws the stranger up against the wall, just beside the exit door.

“Go find one of them. Okay?” He whispers into the guy’s ear.

He shivers. The stranger doesn’t actually move his hands, but Jason can feel the twitch in his bones and knows he really wants to.

“Okay,” he whispers back, eyes trailing down between them.

Jason takes pity on him. He sucks a searing red bruise into the side of his neck when he’s not paying attention. Jason earns himself more moans, more little sounds. It’s a shame he has to cut things short. The guy’s responsive enough to make for a fun night.

“Good boy.” Jason tells the stranger.

His eyes are glazed over. He’s drunk, and Jason just blew him, so it’s easy to walk away after that.

When Jason gets home, he makes sure all the lights stay off. He finds his way into his bedroom soundlessly, and determinedly avoids how similar the guy at the club’s eyes looked to someone else’s. How crushingly sweet his pout was. How reactive he’d been. And the way he was built… the way he took control and gave it right back….

Sleep is hard that night.

No different than usual.

**Author's Note:**

> somewhat under the influence when i wrote this. i just love jaaaaayson


End file.
